


feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

by thebeehive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Harry owns a vintage clothing store, Internalized Homophobia, Liam is a songwriter producer, Louis is a songwriter producer, M/M, Music Industry I mean, Niall works for a golf management company, Zayn is a singer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeehive/pseuds/thebeehive
Summary: Liam loved his job.  He was a songwriter and producer, alongside his best mate Louis, and  worked with a plethora of well- known musicians. He went to work, he went  to the pub with his friends, and then he went home every night to his girlfriend Lucy. He loved his life.“You sure do talk about Zayn a lot,” Louis said one night at the pub.“Well, of course, I mean. We’re working on writing songs together, he’s going to be huge you know? The voice on him, you wouldn’t believe.” Liam smiled.“Mate. You’ve been talking about him non-stop all night.” Niall looked concerned.“He’s just - special, I’ve never met anyone like him.”“We know, you’ve said he’s special, like, five times.” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Liam looked down at his drink, avoiding all eye contact with his friends.Liam loved his life. Until he met Zayn.





	1. Gregale (Northeast)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Post Malone’s song Circles
> 
> Erm, not my usual. Working through some things, I guess. Enjoy?
> 
> Note: Chapter length will vary more than normal, trying for something a bit more experimental here regarding theme/organization.

As for me, well, I'll find someone  
Who's not goin' cheap in the sales  
A nice little housewife, who'll give me a steady life  
And won’t keep going off the rails  
Take your hands off me  
I don't belong to you, you see  
And take a look at my face, for the last time  
I never knew you, you never knew me  
Say hello goodbye  
-Soft Cell, 'Say Hello Wave Goodbye'

“Liam?”

Niall looked at him in irritation.

Liam hadn’t realized he’d zoned out of the conversation going on around him. The small pub was dark, crowded and loud, and he, Niall, Louis, and Harry were crammed in a corner booth on their seventh round of pints, in celebration of Niall’s promotion at the golf management company he worked at. Liam was shoved up between Niall and Louis, slightly sweaty with the body heat radiating from both men, with Harry next to Louis at the end of the booth. All three of his friends had flushed faces and disheveled hair. The air smelled like grease and cheap cologne, and Liam was well on his way to being buzzed. Actually, he was already there.

As it was a Tuesday, Liam staunchly proclaimed he would only have “one drink” as he had a busy schedule at work the next day. Famous last words and all that shite, he thought, finishing off his seventh pint and pretending his head wasn’t fuzzy and light, as if it was about to detach from his body and float up to the ceiling - a balloon with its string cut, drifting away. 

“Sorry, mate. Tired as all get out. Last one, yeah?” Liam tried not to yawn around his now empty glass. “Early day tomorrow.”

Harry snorted. “Louis and you have the same job and he’s not over here whingeing all night?”

Every time another round was ordered, Liam put up a brief, futile protest, only to be shouted down by his overbearing, pushy friends. But Harry was one to speak - he and his sister Gemma ran a vintage clothing store together, and he set his own hours at the store; Liam didn’t have that kind of luxury scheduling.

“I take the job more seriously than Louis does.” Liam pretended like he didn’t hiccup on his last word. He had become a bit of a lightweight in the last several years, ever since his and Louis’s reputation, and thus their work, had picked up steam. While he still made it to the pub with his friends, and there were certainly an uptick in the industry events he and Louis attended, where alcohol flowed freely, Liam wasn’t kidding when he said it - he DID take work seriously, very seriously, and tended to pour his soul, and most of his waking hour, into his job. 

“No argument from me.” Louis elbowed him in the side, and Liam, feeling off kilter, bumped into Niall, who merely elbowed him back, and for a moment he was just a ping pong ball between his friends, and for some reason that image set him off into a fit of giggles. 

“Liam, mate. Relax a bit yeah? You’re such a workaholic.” Niall stopped nudging him and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

Liam searched in his head for the word he was looking for. Niall was wrong, he wasn’t a workaholic. He turned to Niall, and waved his finger in his face. “Nah, no. Work.. enthusiast. That’s it.” This set him off again, and he couldn't stop the giggles. 

Niall just shook his head. “C’mon, mate. Time to get you home before Lucy has our heads.”

Liam leaned forward, it was important Niall understood something. “Lucy likes you. She does, promise. She doesn’t always show it, but she likes you.”

“I don’t think she likes me.” Louis shook his head, finishing off his beer.

Even in his buzzed state Liam couldn’t disagree with that statement. He looked next to Louis. “Where’d Harry go off to?”

“Harry, is right here,” Harry proclaimed grandly, returning to the table with a handful of shots. He set them down, and Liam picked his up; it was small and blue, and he sniffed it, suspicious. 

Harry lifted his shot glass. “To Niall, and his promotion. You know, I knew he would get this when he told us last year that -”

“Shots shots shots!” Louis cut him off, Harry looked offended, and Niall cackled, and then they all downed their shots in one collective gulp, as if they had rehearsed the choreography. 

Liam hesitated. He had a big day tomorrow. But that’s what coffee was for, and if he was in bad shape he could just pop an adderall or two to perk up. What the hell, he thought, and downed the shot. Niall whooped and pounded him on the back when Liam started coughing. “Another?” he suggested, and Niall just laughed and ruffled his hair, and the night blurred on, one blue streak of shots after another.


	2. Levante (East)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know ALL the thoughts on this one. Good, bad, indifferent. I want to know lol.

The next morning Liam was in bad shape. He didn’t remember how he got home the previous night, he didn’t remember making it up to his fourth floor flat, he didn’t remember going to bed, and he couldn’t even remember what day it was.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned. Opening his eyes was a mistake, so he shut them immediately. He burrowed further into the soft pillows. Why were his pillows so soft? Liam liked a nice, firm, pillow to sleep on. Oh, because Lucy picked them out, that’s why, and Liam could never put his foot down with her. 

“It’s Wednesday.” Lucy’s voice was loud, and Liam winced before he could stop himself. “Liam. Seriously. How old are you?”

“Uhhh. Twenty-seven?” Liam at least knew the answer to that question. 

Liam cautiously opened his eyes - they felt dry, like his throat did, like his mouth did, his entire body, in fact, felt like a dried out husk. But his head, dear fuck, his poor head. He groaned again. Lucy, showered and dressed with full make-up on ready to start the day, stared down at him, annoyed, and with a toss of long brown hair she turned and left the room, but not before yelling (and fuck, why must she be so loud when his entire head was about to explode), “It’s Wednesday - you told me you had an important 9am with a new artist. Get a move on babe. Don’t want to get fired now, yeah?”

Liam reached out with an arm that felt like a dead weight, trying to get to his bedside table. He grabbed his phone, and peered at it with bleary eyes. “Shit, shit, shit.” His hangover wasn’t gone, but his lethargic slowness suddenly disappeared. It was already eight. He wasn’t going to make it in time to the office, and it was his first meeting with a new artist. “Shit!” He rolled out of bed, but he was so out of it the didn’t realize his feet were tangled up in the duvet, and he fell to the ground in a heap of arms, legs, and a jolt to his stomach. His stomach wasn’t happy. 

Fifteen minutes later, Liam had achieved the miraculous - he had vomitted twice, (the fall from his bed to the ground had not done his body any favors), he had splashed water on his face, hastily brushed his teeth, (then had to re-brush) and threw on a white shirt and black trousers. Did he look like shit? Yes. Did he feel like shit? Even more yes, but it couldn’t be helped, he needed to be on time and make a good impression with the new artist he would be working with for the next several months. 

He ran through the kitchen, and reached into the fridge for his protein shake, which, at the moment, looking at the brown concoction made him want to vomit again, although he was pretty sure he was running on empty, but he grabbed it anyway, and headed to the front door, grabbing his backpack, which held his gym clothes, although chances were slim he would be able to make it to work out today. 

“No kiss?” Lucy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over a sharp grey suit, and she looked lovely, Liam thought, and he felt like a tool.

He turned back and leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the mouth. Her nose wrinkled and she gently pushed him back with one hand. “Babe, you smell like a brewery, did you shower?”

“Erm. Didn’t have time. Got to go, love you, catch you later!” And Liam turned quickly away and raced out the door. 

He stood on the tube, wished there was room for him to sit down, as he felt like walking death, and grimly leaned against the nearest support pole. He decided to risk texting Carol, the grumpy admin who sat at the front desk. She usually liked Liam, but he shuddered thinking about getting on her bad side, as her temper and pettiness was rather legendary, (although Louis had somehow managed to charm her, so thank goodness for that), so he tended to over compensate with the niceties. He didn’t want to ask her for any favors, but he was desperate.

LIAM: Heeeeeyy Carol! Can i ask the hugest favor? Any way you can order me a coffee - worst night ever. Iced latte with oat milk and no sugar? Please? Pretty please??? Owe you forever!

He bit his thumb nail anxiously while he waited for a reply. 

CAROL: Fine. But don’t make a habit out of it. 

LIAM: LOve you Carol your the BEST!

Even in his current state, he was looking forward to meeting this new artist he had been assigned. His colleague Connor, whose job was to match up singers with the right producers and songwriters, said Liam would be a perfect fit, although Liam couldn’t remember the artists name for the life of him. He was new, working on his first record, but was apparently talented enough to attract attention - he had been signed by a big label, who Connor had sent some of Liam’s work to - several of the executives had raved about it and thought Liam would be a good match for the up and coming artist. 

Louis and him usually worked as a team, and in the last couple years they had made a name for themselves as songwriters, producers, and engineers on quite a few top tracks. They went by LiLow professionally and primarily worked with pop and EDM artists, but in the last several months Louis had begun to take more of an interest in grunge and punk and garage rock, whereas Liam had found himself working on more R&B and hip hop tracks. At first, they had tried to mesh their slowly differing styles, but that didn’t really work out. After a couple of tense weeks, they came to an agreement - they would work on things separately for a while to hone their own sounds, but if needed, they would come back together under LiLow if there was a demand, or, if they ended up needing the money, as it seemed that’s where the lucrative part of the business was. Clearing the air was good for their professional relationship and their friendship, and Liam was relieved; Niall and Harry were close mates, of course, but Louis was his rock.

So here was Liam’s first solo foray with producing and song-writing, and he smelled like a brewery and was about to be late. He practically ran from the train to the office, opened the door of the sleek building, gave a hasty nod to Don, the security at the front desk, badged himself through the security gate, and ran to the lift bank.

“Hold the lift!” he gasped out, as one door began to close. A hand shot out, holding the door, and Liam hurled himself through, rather gracelessly, and leaned against the wall.


	3. Sirocco (Southeast)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also, yes i have too many WIPs, and yes I will hopefully be updating some of them SOON. But you know how the word SOON is around here. For anyone reading this: thank you!!! I hope you are enjoying.

“Floor thirty-one please.”

“Already done,” a soft voice said. 

Liam looked over at the only other occupant of the lift, who also leaned against the wall, clutching a black backpack. The man looked to be about Liam’s age, but where Liam was all rounded shoulders and cheeks, no matter how much time he spent in the gym, this man was all lean angles. His hair was long and dark, with part of the left side shaved off, showing an elaborate mandala tattoo above his ear. He wore a black button-up, with the sleeves rolled up and the top several buttons undone, revealing a multitude of additional ink. 

“Thanks.” Liam leaned his head further back against the wall, clutched his own backpack, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the unpleasant jolt in his stomach when the elevator lurched and began to ascend. 

“Rough night?” the soft voice sounded amused.

Liam opened his eyes. “Yeah, you could say that. Celebrating a mate’s promotion on a Tuesday night is never a good idea. I said I’d be one and done, but.”

The man nodded. “Never the case, huh?”

Liam sighed. “Yeah, I don’t even know why I pretend.”

The man arched an eyebrow. “Persuasive friends?”

“You have no idea. Bunch of idiots. But, they’re my idiots, you know how that goes.” 

The man looked like he was about to say something, but the lift stopped and pinged, and here was the 31st floor. The door opened, and Liam stepped out and then looked back to glance one more time at his new acquaintance, who to his surprise was right behind him. Then he remembered the man had already hit the button for Liam’s floor. He shook himself; he was not firing on all cylinders. 

“Hi Carol.” The admin behind the front desk gave Liam a narrow eyed glance, but held out what looked to be his iced latte. His headache already felt less crushing just looking at the coffee. “Carol, bless you, you’re the best! Truly, owe you forever.”

“You caught me in a good mood, you’re just lucky.” 

“Lucky I get to work with you!” Liam was laying it on thick but he couldn’t help it - it was always good to have the admins on one’s side. He paused and took a sip of iced coffee, and he could almost feel the cold liquid going straight to his sad, shriveled up brain. 

“Do you have an appointment?” Carol was back in business mode, addressing Liam’s lift friend, who stood next to him, shifting from foot to foot. 

“Uh, yeah, yes. I do. I have a 9am with Liam Payne? I’m Zayn Malik.” 

Liam realized he must be the new artist; he now vaguely remembered Conner mentioning the name Zayn. He stuck his hand not holding the coffee out. 

“That’s me mate, nice to meet you. Sorry for the -” he let go of Zayn’s hand and vaguely motioned to his head, “ugh, state of me today. Rough night and all.”

“So you already said,” Zayn quirked his lips.

Liam felt a bit embarrassed for his lack of professionalism, but then again, working with someone in a songwriting and producing capacity meant spending a lot of long, sometimes late night hours getting to know all sorts of emotional and intimate details about them, so better to get the awkward encounters out of the way now.

“Well, uh, nice to meet you, Zayn. Why don’t we go to my office and get acquainted?”

“Get acquainted, sure,” Zayn repeated, lips still quirked.

Liam smiled, a bit uncertain- he couldn’t tell if Zayn was hard to read, or simply reserved. He and Louis had worked with many well known musicians, but it had been a while since he had worked with someone on a debut album, and this would be his first time going at it alone, so he was very eager to make this work, which meant having a good working relationship with Zayn. 

He walked down the hall, noting with some jealousy that Louis’s office door was wide open and he wasn’t inside; the lucky bastard was probably still asleep in bed as he didn’t have the mis-fortunate of a morning meeting. He led Zayn into his office, shut the door behind them, and walked over to his desk, putting down his backpack and settling down with his iced coffee clutched close in hand. Zayn sat down in the chair across from his desk, and Liam took a sip of his coffee, and then, a bit late, remembered his manners.

“Did you want anything to drink? Water, tea? We can have someone bring you up a coffee?”

“Um, water’s fine.” 

Liam reached into the mini-fridge next to his desk and grabbed a water, handing it over while studying Zayn. The man didn't have the usual personality of the pop musicians he had worked with, and he wondered for a brief moment why the label thought they would be a good fit. He watched as Zayn looked around his office, which Liam had filled with a large amount of, well, he called it nonsense, but it was all the stuff he loved - old comic books framed on the walls, models of dinosaurs and batman figures on shelves, a Harry Potter movie poster, signed by the entire cast, and tons of framed photos with various musicians, some he had worked with, and some he had met at parties but hoped to work with one day.

“So Zayn, tell me about yourself. Where you’re from, how’d you get into music, and the like.”

Zayn took a long sip of water, and looked contemplative. “I’m from Bradford, born and raised. My family’s all still there. I like music. All sorts of music, really.” 

He paused and took another sip of water. “Growing up I listened to a lot of 90s R&B and hip hop. But I also listened to a lot of Bollywood music. My family was big on Bollywood movies, we watched them all the time. I really like Frank Ocean, and what he’s doing right now.” He twisted the cap of the water bottle back and forth, and then gave a shrug. 

“When did you start singing?” Liam prompted. He realized Zayn wasn’t going to be the type to open up and tell his life story to someone he only just met; he was going to have to work to pull information from him.

“Um, all my life really. When I was younger I would put on like, little shows for my family and stuff. Then in school I did theater, and musicals. Wanted to be an actor, for a while, actually. Ended up going to University of Bradford, and now I work at a publishing company. I read all the unpublished author works.” Zayn smiled. “ But I was still singing. Then, a family friend convinced me to do a demo - they knew people in the industry. I got lucky - a label liked the demo. They wanted to meet me, and I signed with them.” Here Zayn shrugged again. “And now they want me to work with some songwriters to help develop my sound for my first album. So here we are.”

“Here we are indeed.” Liam smiled, but inside his head he felt a bit of panic. Zayn was obviously very green - to everything about the music industry. Where were the years spent at open mic nights, or touring small shitty venues, or even winning a competition? This guy was signed on a single demo; it must have been one hell of a demo, he thought. Although visually he understood Zayn had the right look, Liam once again thought about how reserved he seemed. “Can you sing for me?”

“Uh. Sing what?” Zayn looked nervous.

“Anything. It doesn’t have to be an original song, just something you really like. I want to hear your voice to get an idea of what we’ll be working with.” Liam tried to put Zayn at ease. “The doors closed, the walls here are pretty thick, I’ll be the only one listening. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Um, ok. Let me think.” Zayn paused, looking into space, mouth slightly parted. Then he looked at Liam and nodded, mind made up. “Gonna sing ‘Thinkin Bout You.’ Frank Ocean.” 

Ambitious choice, Liam thought. The song had spawned a thousand covers, but few and far between were those that could hit Frank’s high, high falsetto notes. 

“Alright then, go ahead when you’re ready.” Liam smiled again, and leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his precious latte.

Zayn took a deep breath, and began to sing, and Liam leaned forward and forgot all about his coffee for the next several minutes.

In his career Liam had been privy to hearing all types of talent of varying levels sing live for him. He hadn’t written songs for all of them, of course, but he’d heard his fair share. Zayn didn’t have the best voice he’d ever heard, but he did have a very, very good voice, and it had a certain quality - if he had to use words, he would describe it as velvety. And his vocal runs and riffs were top-notch, and his range was fantastic - he hit the high falsettos, not a note out of place. When he sang, he made occasional eye contact with Liam, but he also looked at the wall a lot. He was just as inexperienced as Liam thought he would be. But the potential - Liam knew he was seeing all the potential bottled up in one nervous man. His confidence, Liam thought, would need to be worked on as well. 

“You have a lovely voice,” Liam said sincerely, when Zayn finished.

Zayn looked at the ground, bashful. “Thank you.”

“So, the way I work, I usually start with melodies, and then work on lyrics from there. But Conner - who works with the label to match me, or my songs, up with the right artists - mentioned you had a lot of ideas for songs. Have you already written down lyric ideas?”

Zayn took another sip of water and twisted the cap around again. He met Liam’s eyes. “Um, yeah. I, uh, actually have written a lot of songs. I write poems, and I get a lot of my ideas for songs from my poems.” 

“Poems?” Liam was intrigued. He listened to music all day everyday, but he wasn’t much of a reader, and while he had read books, he couldn’t recall every reading poetry, except maybe when he had been forced to in school.

“They’re mostly pretty like, short poems, and the lines are short too. Some of them have themes. Some of them are just me getting stuff out. But yeah, poems.”

Zayn twisted around in his chair and reached down to grab the backpack he had brought in. He opened up and pulled out two little black notebooks.

“Old school? Not feeling the digital?” Liam was itching to open the notebooks, but he didn’t want to appear pushy.

Zayn smiled, a genuine, wide smile, flashing his teeth and squinting his eyes up. It changed his face completely, from a resting, broody look to an open, happy one. Liam found himself smiling back; it was contagious.

“Nah, I write plenty of stuff on the notes app on my phone, but sometimes it’s nice to have something solid in your hands, yeah?”

Liam nodded. “Are you familiar with Southside Studios, on Park Road?”

Zayn shrugged. “Heard of it, never been.”

“Do you want to check it out tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow?” Zayn’s eyes widened and he swallowed.

“Yeah, I figure why waste time. We can meet at the studio tomorrow, mess around a bit, and talk about what kind of sound we want to play with. Sound ok?”

Zayn nodded, solemn again, smile gone. 

“You alright, mate?”

Zayn nodded again. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just. It’s a lot, you know? It’s all a new experience to me. The record label, signing with them. Then working in the studio with you. You’re a member of LiLow.”

“You knew who we were?” Liam was surprised. Outside the industry, if a songwriter wasn’t also a well known singer, they tended to keep a low profile.

“Well, uh, to be honest with you, no. But when they told me I’d be working with you, I looked you up. You and your partner have written for so many people, you know. It’s intimidating.”

“Ah, well, it took a while for Louis and I to get established, get a foothold, you know. At the end of the day, you can write the best song, but if you aren’t matched with the right artist, or any artist for that matter - it doesn’t matter.” Liam shrugged, and thought about the last seven years of hard work he and Louis had to put in to get where they were today. . “But no need to intimated, yeah? I’m the least intimidating person ever.”

Zayn smiled. "Well, I'm looking forward. What time?"

Liam took a long sip of iced coffee. Even though, physically, he still felt like warmed over death, the coffee and conversation with Zayn had done wonders for his mental clarity. "What say eight tomorrow morning? Are you an early riser?"

"Errr." Zayn looked down at his lap, and looked slightly guilty.

"Ok, ok - ten more doable?"

Zayn looked back up and smiled. "Yeah, sounds good. Can't wait Liam."

And Liam realized he couldn't wait to get started either.


	4. Ostro (South)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me updating WIPs like a real person. Thank you so much, as always, for the kudos and comments! Much love.

The next morning was the anti-thesis of the previous disaster of a morning.

Liam crashed the night before and went to bed early - he woke up at six and went for the longest run he had taken in several months, stretching out stiff muscles, and coming back just as the sun rose. He took a leisurely shower, cooked a full breakfast for Lucy, and then kissed her goodbye before he took the tube, getting out at a different exit than usual and arriving at Southside Studios half an hour before Zayn was scheduled to arrive. The studio was next door to a small coffee shop, and Liam spent fifteen minutes turning everything on and setting up, before deciding to run next door to get coffee.

The line was long; Liam looked at his phone while he waited. Without realizing it, he started texting Zayn, whose cell number he'd obtained before the end of their meeting the previous day.

LIAM: Heyyy...good morning!! Want a coffee or tea..in line now

Liam didn’t know if Zayn was the type to constantly check his phone- even if he did, would he feel comfortable texting back yet since they had literally just met the day before, Liam wondered. He didn’t have to wait long. A message flashed across his screen.

ZAYN: u don’t mind?

LIAM: no - hurry! Almost at register

ZAYN: cold brew w hazlenut

LIAM: gottcha

ZAYN: thanks Liam :) 

Liam ordered the drinks, cold brew for Zayn and his usual oat milk latte, as well as a couple of bagels in case Zayn was hungry, and he felt himself smiling, for no real reason. Even without any coffee yet, he felt hyped - it would be a lot of work with Zayn so new to the industry, but ever since he heard Zayn sing in his office yesterday, he couldn’t get his voice out of his head. He had so many ideas and melodies he wanted to try with Zayn, but, at heart, Liam was a collaborator - that’s why he and Louis had become so successful so young - bouncing ideas, lyrics, and melodies off of each other, and the other writers and producers they occasionally worked with- that was Liam’s sweet spot - so he was curious to see what words and lyrics and poems Zayn had written in his battered notebooks that Liam could possibly pair up with melodies or hooks. 

He didn’t know Zayn, but he had a feeling the reserved man was very intelligent - he was, if nothing else, good at making quick judgments on character - a necessity when he was required to get personal and creative with artists he had only met or worked with for the first time. 

Liam had reserved Southside Studios London for the next three weeks to focus on working with crafting Zayn’s sound for his debut album, and he thought this was the perfect studio for the first time artist. The studio was in a small, unassuming brick building, and had a very intimate, cozy feel. The walls were covered in a thousand aging concert posters from the past 20 years, all the rooms had comfy chairs and couches covered in red flannel in between all the instruments and recording equipment, and all types of music had been recorded at the studio - from instrumental, electronic jazz to reggae to garage rock to experimental hip-hop. 

Liam felt comfortable and at home in the studio, and artists were put at ease by the unpretentious, cozy vibe. 

Juggling the coffees with the bag of bagels, he walked out of the coffee shop and saw Zayn standing in front of the studio door, holding his backpack strap in one hand and his phone in the other, looking hesitant. Liam noticed he was wearing black skinny jeans so tight they looked painted on, and then a loose, short sleeve button up in bright green. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he again wore the first couple buttons undone so Liam could get a view of the ink on his chest. His hair was styled the same as the previous day, hanging in loose, thick waves down one side, showing off the shaved part where the mandala tattoo was visible above his ear. 

Liam felt suddenly short of breath, and his chest felt tight. He realized he was just staring at Zayn, who hadn’t seen him yet, and he shook himself - he always felt a little nervous before working with a new artist, but that was usually only if they were already established or famous, and even that had lessened over the years. Liam knew that if, say, Usher or Jay-Z or Rihanna came to work with him he’d be a bit of a nervous wreck, but he had worked with so many well-known and talented people over the years the nerves usually went away quickly. And he hadn’t gotten nervous around an unknown artist ever - maybe he was just worried because this was his first foray into producing and writing without Louis by his side - that must be it.

“Hey Zayn!” Liam said, still a couple feet away, not wanting to startle the other man. Up close, he noticed Zayn wore thick, black framed glasses, making his large eyes look even more doe like. 

Zayn turned and his eyes lit up, and he immediately looked more relaxed. He tucked his phone in his back pocket and came forward to grab a coffee out of Liam’s hand.

“The one on the left is yours,” Liam directed, noticing that even Zayn’s fingers were tattooed with random looking symbols. His hands looked elegant - like artists hands. Even his nails were somehow pretty. Liam wondered why he getting so stuck on Zayn’s appearance. His own hands were tattooed, his arms were tattooed, he was around heavily inked people everyday. He really needed a sip of his coffee. 

“Thanks again, Liam,” Zayn said softly.

“Got you some bagels too,” Liam awkwardly thrust the bag towards Zayn. “Didn’t know if you wanted breakfast or not. Or if you were hungry. Or if you even liked bagels-

Zayn smiled, and nodded as he took the bag out of Liam’s hand. “Thank you. Not hungry now, but I’m sure I will be.”

Liam smiled back, then unlocked the studio door, ushering Zayn inside.

Liam gave him the full tour of the studio, which only took a couple minutes, considering how small the place was. He showed Zayn the various instruments, and was pleased to learn that Zayn could play the guitar, and a little of piano as well. 

Liam sat down in one of the red flanneled chairs, sinking down, and Zayn sat across from him on one of the equally red flanneled couches. He crossed his legs, and Liam again noticed how tight his jeans were. They were ripped in the knees, and Liam looked for a moment at the dark hair on Zayn’s bony knee before looking up at his face. He was sipping coffee, looking outwardly calm, but Liam noticed his hand not holding the coffee tapped out a restless pattern on the armrest of the couch. 

Liam took a big sip of his own coffee, then spoke up. “So I listened to your demo yesterday - I should have done that before our meeting yesterday, sorry. But Connor - my mate who works with your label to match singers up with producers and songwriters - just sent it over yesterday. So now I understand why the label signed you on a single demo. Your voice is amazing Zayn. And it just has this - quality. I want to say-” Liam shrugged. “Dunno. Otherwordly, almost. It’s almost hypnotizing.”

Zayn stopped sipping his coffee, and blinked, staring down at his lap before looking back up at Liam with a bashful gaze. “Thank you.”

Liam wanted to make Zayn understand. “I really think you have something special Zayn, and I want this to be a true collaboration. I know you’re going to work with other people, not just me of course, but the songs we do work on together I would love if they make it on your album. So today I just want to talk about concepts and sounds, if that’s ok?”

Zayn nodded. “I don’t really know how any of this words. So whatever you want to do is fine.”

Liam smiled. “Ok. I know you said you had written a lot of lyrics and song. Any over-arching themes? Or common threads running through everything? Is there a specific type of music or sound that you like? I know we are going for something between R&B and pop, but I want to hear what you like first before we dive in. I know you like Frank Ocean, and Bollywood music as an influence as well. Do you want your sound to have elements of Bollywood sounds?”

Zayn put down his coffee on the table next to the couch and shrugged, but he leaned forward. “Yeah, like I said I grew up watching Bollywood movies and listening to that type of music. I think i want my sound to be - “ He paused, fingers tapping out a rhythm on his thigh. “I want my sound to be R&B, but like, a dreamy R&B, if that makes sense? A lot of Bollywood songs draw heavily from Urdu poetry - I think that’s why I like poetry so much. I - I kind of want-” he paused, and went back to staring at his lap.

Liam waited a moment, not wanting to steamroll him.

Zayn looked back up, and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I really liked your office. Yesterday. You like comics?”

Liam wasn’t prepared for the change in subject, but he went with it. “Yeah, love comics mate. Read them all the time when I was a kid. I’m not much of a reader, but comics, yeah. I’ve collected them for years now. Now I just watch the movies, really, since there’s a new Marvel or DC movie every month,” he laughed. “But, really, I’m a big nerd. Comics, dinosaurs, space, you name it. I like it.”

Zayn’s eyes lit up again. “I love anything with space. You watch the NASA documentary last month with the new theory on black holes- that everything we know could be wrong?”

Liam put down his coffee. “Yes! Can you believe that singularities might actually be able to be manipulated?”

Zayn started gesturing with his hands. “I know - can you imagine harnessing that type of power, yeah? It’d be the greatest discovery since the Hadron!”

“I know - there’s going to be a part two in the series in a couple months.” Liam smiled. “We should watch it together.”

Zayn’s lips quirked up. “You’d want to watch that with me even if our songs together don’t make it on the album?”

Liam laughed. “I’m determined, mate, to get at least one song on the album. You’re going to be big, believe it. And I want to be able to say, I knew Zayn before the fame. Before the money and the fancy cars and the beautiful women.”

Zayn stopped smiling. He paused for a long moment, and gripped the side of the couch. “I don’t drive. And I’m more into beautiful men than beautiful women.” He stuck his chin out and didn’t look away, giving Liam an intense look.

Liam wasn’t sure why Zayn’s statement gave him that tight feeling back in his chest again. But his priority was to make Zayn feel comfortable, and develop a good working relationship. He took a breath, and gave Zayn his best smile. “Well, that’s what Uber’s for, yeah? And I’m sure you’ll have no problem with all the beautiful men falling all over you.” Before he finished speaking, he realized what he was saying. Was he implying that Zayn himself was attractive? Which, Liam had given plenty of men plenty of compliments. He wasn’t sure why he felt so awkward around this one. 

Zayn’s shoulders visibly relaxed, his chin lowered, and he let out a soft smile. “Thanks Leeyum.” 

His thick Bradford accent wrapped around Liam’s name, drawing out the vowels. Liam tried to relax as well. He was going to work with Zayn, and the collaboration was going to be good, and Zayn’s first album was going to be a success, of that he would make sure.


	5. Libeccio (Southwest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, woo always something to celebrate! :) Thanks for your patience on this one, I hope everyone is enjoying the updates! :)

Liam had worked with Zayn for two weeks now, and he couldn’t remember ever being more energized or excited to go to work. 

Everyday they spent in Southside Studios, working on hooks and melodies, creating what Liam hoped would be the “dreamy R&B sound” that Zayn wanted. Zayn had introduced him to the wide world of Bollywood music, and while he had yet to show Liam his poems and lyrics in the battered notebooks he carried around in his backpack, he grew more open and comfortable with sharing ideas with Liam as the weeks went by. He came home late every day; Zayn and him usually ended up ordering takeout for dinner and continued to work late into the night, much to Lucy’s consternation. Liam tried to explain that the artistic process was a fickle one, and he had to strike the iron while hot, as it were. He only had a limited time with Zayn, and he wanted to make it count. 

It was a Friday night at the pub, and he was in the usual corner booth, shoved up against his mates. He had invited Zayn to the pub that night, wanting his friends to meet him, especially Louis. Zayn said he would try and make it after getting dinner with a friend. Liam told him to invite his friend too, so Zayn wouldn’t feel overwhelmed or out numbered with his friends. Who he knew could be rather overbearing, but, he told Zayn, they were all in good fun. 

Liam couldn’t stop checking the door to the pub every few minutes.

Louis was talking about some new artist he was working with. “And the guy won’t stop sucking down cold brew all day. He’s gonna vibrate right through the studio walls, I swear.”

“Zayn loves cold brew, but he gets it with hazelnut,” Liam said. He was on his sixth pint and he felt loose and relaxed. 

Louis raised both eyebrows and elbowed Niall, who was sitting next to him, causing the drink in his hand to slosh on the table.

“Oi, watch it,” Niall growled.

Louis ignored him. He turned to Liam. “You sure do talk about Zayn a lot.”

“Well, of course, I mean. We’re working on writing songs together, he’s going to be huge you know? The voice on him, you wouldn’t believe.” Liam smiled.

“Mate. You’ve been talking about him non-stop all night.” Niall looked concerned.

“He’s just - special, I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“We know, you’ve said he’s special, like, five times.” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Liam looked down at his drink, avoiding all eye contact with his friends.

He was just excited to work with someone new, all on his own that was all. He had been so nervous to strike out on his own without having the safety net of Louis to fall back on - he had worried about what would happen if he wasn’t inspired, or didn’t enjoy working with Zayn. But all his fears had been for naught - Zayn was a dream to work. He was wildly creative and receptive to all of Liam’s ideas - a double edged sword, really. Liam wanted to see what was in those notebooks - he wanted the songs to have as much of Zayn’s point of view as possible - he was fresh and unique, and Liam wanted to both know more about Zayn as a person and songwriter. 

His mind manifested his current thoughts as Zayn suddenly materialized in the doorway of the pub, next to a brown haired man who looked to be his age. This must be his friend Danny he had dinner with - it had been the first time all week that they hadn’t eaten dinner together at the studio, and even though they had spent the last two weeks together, Liam couldn’t help but feel vaguely disappointed - which was ridiculous, as Zayn was not his friend, just a business associate. 

Nevertheless, even though it had been less than two hours since he had seen Zayn, he felt his a swoop in his stomach - he really hadn’t expected the other man to show up. 

Zayn had explained to Liam that it usually took him a minute to warm up to people, and he preferred small, not big groups of people. 

Zayn walked up to the table, his friend in tow, and looked at Liam expectantly. 

Liam cleared his throat. “Everybody, this is Zayn and -”

“Danny, my friend Danny,” Zayn said, as Danny nodded at everybody.

“Nice to meet you Danny,” Liam said sincerely. He pointed to his friends in turn. “This is Niall, Harry, and Louis. And please let me get you guys a couple rounds-”

“Thanks, Liam, but that’s not necessary,” Zayn waved him off. 

“No, no, I insist,” Liam began to push his way out of the booth. “You came to our usual place, and you’ll have to put up with these guys-” He jerked his thumb at his friends, who gave varying noises of dissent. “So yeah, drinks on me. Danny what would you like?”

“Uh, jack and coke, please.” Danny looked uncertain.

“Got it - Zayn I need to talk to you.” Liam grabbed an amused looking Zayn by his arm - and pulled him towards the bar, ignoring the shouts of his mates to make sure he brought them back another round of drinks. 

The place was crowded as it was a Friday night, but the bartender Gareth came right over when he saw Liam. “Another round of the usual for ya idiots?”

“Yes, please. Plus a jack and coke and whatever Zayn here,” Liam gently shook his arm, which he still hadn’t let go, for emphasis "wants, yeah?”

“Uh, jack and coke for me too, thanks.” Zayn turned to look at Liam. His eyes looked like they were sparkling in the dim light of the pub. He wasn’t wearing the thick black frame glasses he usually wore in the studio.

“Where are your glasses?” Liam asked.

“Uh, I only wear them in the studio, or when I’m reading.” Zayn smiled. “You buzzed Liam?”

“Nah,” Liam scoffed. 

“You’re still holding on me arm?” Zayn raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t look annoyed, he was smiling and seemed to be in a good mood. 

“Guess so,” Liam shrugged but didn’t let go. “Wanted to talk to you, alone.”

Zayn’s happy expression flickered for a moment, and his eyes seemed to darken. “Alone, yeah? What you gonna say that you couldn’t say in front of my mate and yours?”

Liam felt nervous, but pushed through. “I’ve been wanting to ask you the last two weeks, ever since I met you. But I didn’t want to come on too strong-”

Zayn slid closer to him, and reached up and gripped the arm that Liam was using to hold on to him. He wrapped his long, elegant fingers around Liam’s bicep, and he could feel the warmth through his black t-shirt.

“Leeyum, you’ve been nothing but professional. You haven’t been coming on too strong at all.”

Liam might have been imagining it, but it almost sounded like Zayn’s voice had dropped, and he sounded more velvety than usual. 

“So then you wouldn’t mind if I asked you to show me your-”

“There you are!” Lucy’s bright voice interrupted Liam. 

She leaned forward and gave Liam a quick kiss, a press of her lips against his open mouth, and turned to give Zayn an assessing look; he quickly let go of Liam’s arm, and Liam did the same to his. 

“Who’s your friend babe?” 

Liam felt irrationally annoyed at her presence. He had barely seen her the past two weeks, coming home after she had already been asleep, and she’d been out of town the previous weekend visiting her sister. Other than seeing her in the morning before they both left for work, they had been like ships in the night. He had asked her to come to the pub with his friends, but she had declined earlier, via text, stating a headache. And yet here she was.

“This is Zayn, the new artist I’ve been working with at the studio. Zayn, this is Lucy.”

There was a long pause, where everyone just looked at each other.

“His girlfriend. So you’ve been the one he’s working all those late nights with.” 

Lucy’s voice echoed loudly in Liam’s ear. There was another long pause.

“Nice to meet you,” Zayn practically mumbled, then turned to stare at the bartender pouring drinks.

Liam turned to Lucy. “Your headache gone?”

“Yup, all better,” Lucy put her arm around his waist and pressed against him. 

Liam could smell her perfume and her shampoo and all the other scents that clung to her, but it didn’t feel like the usual familiar feeling of comfort and home - the scent had morphed into something cloying. Liam shook his head. He didn’t think he was that buzzed yet - he had been so excited to see Zayn, and ask him about the notebooks and - fuck. That’s what he’d been about to ask.

Gareth came over with the drinks, and Liam turned to Lucy. “What did you want to drink, babe?”

“Just a light beer. And one for Claire, too.” Liam looked over at the booth, relieved to see Lucy had brought her closest friend. 

“Great - hey Gareth - add two light beers to my tab?” 

Gareth nodded, turning around and pouring two pints. Zayn still avoided eye contact with Liam; he scooped up his and Danny’s drinks, as well as a pint for one of the other lads, then headed back over to the table. 

“Thanks Gareth,” Liam told the bartender when he came back with the two beers. Lucy grabbed both light beers, Liam gathered up the remaining pints, and they headed back to their corner booth. 

Even more people had arrived. The corner booth was packed full and overflowing with people standing next to the table for lack of room. Niall’s friends Ed and Lewis, who Liam loved because they were hilarious, several of Harry's goofy fashion friends whose names he could never remember, and Louis' friend Oli. Liam noticed with some interest that Zayn's friend Danny and Lucy's friend Claire seemed to be deep in conversation. He put down the drinks on the table and attempted to make more introductions but everyone was only half listening, too busy in their own conversations and shouting at each other. He felt the need to take a huge swig of his pint; he saw that Lucy had gone to talk to Claire and Danny, and he looked around for Zayn. He was just in time to see Zayn, carrying his backpack as he walked out the back door of the pub. Without thinking Liam chugged the rest of his drink, set his glass down on the booth trying to fight off his sudden lightheaded-ness, and elbowed his way through the crowded pub after Zayn. 

He opened the back door and looked around, spotting Zayn in the narrow back alleyway, squatting down. Liam jogged over.

"Everything ok?"

Zayn startled and fell forward, catching himself with his hand. His other hand held his phone, with the flashlight on, looking over the ground.

"Fuck, Liam." Zayn righted himself and stood up. "You scared the shit out of me. I was looking for me lighter, just dropped it."

"Oh." Liam felt silly. He thought Zayn had been trying to leave. He had grown accustomed to Zayn's smoke breaks that he took when they were at the studio all day and into the night. "I thought you'd left."

"And leave Danny alone with that girl?"

"Claire. Her name's Claire. She's nice enough."

Zayn barked out a laugh, then turned back to shining his phone light on the ground. "That was my lucky lighter, shit."

Liam looked intently at the ground around Zayn's feet. He saw a glint. "There it is." He bent down and swooped up a small red lighter, then gently placed it in Zayn's outstretched hand, then bowed down. He was feeling silly and loose again. "Your lighter, my good sir."

"Eagle eyes," Zayn looked at him admiringly as he put away his phone. The only light source now was the light bulb above the back door of the pub. "My hero then, yeah?"

"'Twas nothing." Liam gave him his best wide smile. "Twas nothing any regular hero with eagle eyes wouldn't do."

Zayn giggled. "You are such a nerd."

Liam shrugged. "I've been called worse."

"No," Zayn shook his head. "I like you when you're like this. Silly. It's cute."

Liam paused. He'd never been called cute by another man before. He wasn't sure how to take it. "I'm silly in the studio, yeah?"

Zayn shook his head again, then paused to pull out a cigarette. He lit the end, the muted light casting his face in sharp shadows. He took a long, deep inhale, and then slowly blew the smoke out of his mouth and up into his nose, inhaling again. Liam watched, fascinated. The alleyway was suddenly very quiet, and even though it was a warm summer night, he felt a shiver run down his back.

"What is that called again? The way you exhale the smoke then inhale it through your nose?" 

Zayn took another drag, this time blowing out a lopsided smoke ring. His voice was throaty when he spoke. "A french inhale." He took another drag. "And you get silly in the studio, but it's nice to see you silly outside the studio as well."

Liam paused. He again didn't know how to react to what Zayn was saying to him. He focused on the smoke again. "Can you teach me? How to do that french inhale thing?"

Zayn arched an eyebrow, but walked closer to Liam. He held out the cigarette. 

"Ok, inhale like normal. But when you exhale, go slow, and push the smoke up, yeah?"

Liam tried to follow his instructions, taking a drag and bringing the smoke into his mouth and lungs, but on the exhale the smoke didn't go up sharply enough for him to re-inhale through his nose. 

"Nah, you gotta -" Zayn gently grabbed his chin with one hand, and Liam stood very still. With his other hand, he took his index finger and thumb and grasped Liam's lower lip, pulling on it. "You gotta stick your bottom lip out, so the smoke goes straight up, yeah?" 

He released Liam's lips but kept his hand on his jaw.

Liam brought the cigarette to his lips again, this time conscious of Zayn's firm grip on his jaw, and how close the two of them stood together in the dim alleyway. Zayn's eyes were watching his lips, and he felt his stomach clench. He took a long inhale, then slowly, slowly started to exhale. Zayn reached out and gently tugged on his lower lip again, sticking it out. Liam focused on the feel of Zayn's fingers and concentrated on blowing the smoke upwards. This time, it worked, and he was able to inhale into his nose. Zayn's eyes never left his lips. 

Liam started to cough, and Zayn released his lip and jaw. "Sorry, sorry, it's been awhile since I've smoked."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Zayn said quietly, still looking at his lips, until he took a step back and looked into his eyes. "You never told me you had a girlfriend."

"What? I - I know I mentioned Lucy several times." Liam handed him back the cigarette, and cleared his throat. "I was always talking about how grumpy she gets when I was late with her dinner."

Zayn took a long drag, then stubbed out the cigarette against the side of the building. "Yeah, but I thought she was your cat." 

Liam laughed. "My cat? What the fuck. Why did you think that?"

"Well, I knew you couldn't leave a dog alone all day - we were in the studio late each night. You only mentioned her by saying how mad she gets when you aren't there to feed her."

"Cook her dinner. Or, eat dinner with her." Liam corrected, shaking his head. "No, she's not a cat. Definitely my girlfriend."

Zayn crossed his arms and scuffed his shoe against the ground. "How long you two been together?"

"A year and a bit. Or well." Liam thought about it. "A year and a half next month. We moved in almost six months ago. Both our leases were up and it seemed to make sense so..." He trailed off, not sure where he was going with that. 

Zayn tilted his head, eyes intense. "Do you think she's it? She the one?"

They had talked about love in the studio a little bit, but it was more in the abstract sense, not specific and personal. They had been so focused on melodies and creating the sound and getting Zayn used to the studio process - that most of the vocal samples they had recorded were just exercises and practice, to find out Zayn's full range and his strengths and weaknesses in his voice, and how he sounded over certain chords. The lyrics and intense songwriting part of the session hadn't really happened.

"I don't know." Liam felt a bit laid bare by the question, and surprised by his own honestly. Even with Louis, he didn't say much about his relationship other than defending or excusing Lucy's constant annoyance with his work schedule. "We make sense together, I guess. We're at the right age to be serious. Her family likes me, and my family likes her. We both want to stay in London. It makes sense."

Zayn uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. "It makes sense huh."

Liam nodded and leaned back against the brick wall of the building behind him, which was the building next to the pub. He felt the bricks dig into his back. "Yeah, it does."

Zayn took out his lighter and a new cigarette. He lit the end and took a long drag, blew out another lopsided smoke ring, and looked at Liam through the smokey haze. "Love isn't supposed make sense. It's not about logic. You didn't say anything about feelings, or emotions. Where do those fit in?"

Liam bristled. "Of course I love her."

"What do you love about her?"

"I love - I love." Liam felt helpless. "She's pretty. She's nice. She's um. Clean."

Zayn chuckled darkly, face blurred by smoke for a moment. "How's the sex?"

Liam stood up straight from where had been resting against the building; he no longer felt at ease, in fact he felt pretty fucking uncomfortable with Zayn's line of questioning.

"Bit personal that, but fine. It's fine."

Zayn nodded, and took another inhale. "Fine. The sex is fine. Ok. Have you ever had mind-blowing sex Liam?" 

Before he could even think, Liam blurted out, "You mean with a woman?" His brain caught up with his mouth, and he felt himself turn red. Was he more on his way to buzzed than he realized? Why would he say that when he's only ever slept with women? 

Zayn lowered his cigarette, mouth partially open for a moment, then he seemed to regain his composure. "Have you ever fucked a man?"

"No!" Liam's voice was loud in the alley, echoing off the brick walls. "Um, no."

Zayn snorted. "Ever BEEN fucked by a man?"

"No!" Liam tried to not to panic, but then he didn't know why he was feeling panicky in the first place. "Nothing wrong with that, of course," he added lamely.

Zayn snorted. "Of course there's nothing wrong with it. You might be surprised by it, even."

Before Liam could think of anything to possibly say in response to that, Zayn stepped forward, getting right in his space. "Wanna do that french inhale one more time?"

Liam looked into his eyes, dark and glittering. "Uh, sure. Yeah."

This time, Zayn didn't let go of the cigarette when he held it out to Liam's mouth. Liam took a long drag, then almost went cross-eyed as he watched Zayn reach forward and pull his lip out. He exhaled, pushing upwards, with Zayn's fingers burning on his lips, hotter than the cigarette itself. He breathed the warm smoke in through his nose.

"Good boy," Zayn whispered, blinking slowly at him, and Liam felt a jolt in his stomach. He tried to take a step back, but was met with the wall of the building.

"Hullo there, what are you two up to?" Louis's sharp voice rang out through the alley way, and light and noise spilled out of the back door of the pub. Zayn let go of his lips and stepped back, and Liam leaned against the wall, feeling lightheaded, as if all his blood was rushing... south. 

Zayn waved the hand holding his cigarette in the air in a lazy wave to Louis. "Just having a smoke, wanna join us?"

Louis stood on the back step up, looking shrewdly back and forth between them, but all he said was, "No thanks. Lucy's looking for you, Liam." Then he turned around and went back inside, shutting the door behind him, and taking the noise and extra light with him.

Liam cleared his throat. "Well, better get back inside, yeah?"

"Sure." Zayn was quiet again, turning his back to Liam to finish his cigarette, hoisting his back pack straps more firmly on his shoulders. That's when Liam remembered the reason he followed Zayn outside in the first place. 

"Um, hey Zayn, do you mind, um. Next week in the studio - would you mind showing me your notebooks? I mean, what's in your notebooks, with the lyrics and poems and stuff?" Liam held his breath. 

Zayn turned back around. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that."

Liam was relieved. "Great. That's great - I can't wait to see your ideas." He smiled. "Ok, well. See you back inside." 

Zayn didn't answer, just continued to smoke, and feeling awkward, Liam headed back into the pub to look for Lucy. His last glimpse of Zayn was seeing the other man lean his head back, blowing lopsided smoke rings into the dark night.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are life!!


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